“Oh. Good morning, Michael.”
“Cold?” He stepped closer, lowering to sit next to me. I grabbed the edges of the blanket, shuffling to the side even though he already had more than enough room to sit.
I huffed a laugh I dearly hoped didn’t sound as fake as it felt. The idea of small talk was already pulling on the last strings of my energy, and we’d only started.
“A little. Just waiting for the game to start.”
He pointed toward the boys huddled up on the field, “Looks like they’re getting ready to run out there now.”
I made do with nodding.
“Do you mind if I sit here, or are you waiting for someone?”
I bit the inside of my cheek at his obvious fishing. He might as well have waved a rod and worm around, but I couldn’t blame him. The last time we’d spoken, Garrett had swept in like a tidal wave, whisking me away.
“It’s just me today.” I turned my attention to the field. I still couldn’t claim to be a fan of sports, but there was something about watching kids run aimlessly around a field for an hour or two that was almost calming. Like watching a fish tank or an ant farm.
In my peripheral, I could see Michael glance my way several times. He clearly wanted to say or ask something, but he hadn’t worked up the nerve. Part of me hoped he never did, as shitty as the thought was. Anytime someone gave me a look like that, they were usually about to ask me something personal.
“Can I ask you something?”
Damn.
I dragged my eyes to him, but he was looking down at his watch, fiddling with the dials, so I looked back at the field. “Sure.”
“Are you free next weekend? It’s Ian’s birthday, and he’s wanting to invite Jamie over for some pizza and cake. I thought…maybe we could…”
His stuttering trailed off, and I frowned, twisting toward him. He was asking about a kid birthday, not dinner and a movie, so why did he sound so damn nervous? I opened my mouth to ask when, only for another voice to beat me to it.
“What day?”
Warmth engulfed my shoulder a second later as a large hand curled around it, tucking me against the jean-covered leg standing behind me. How his lumberjack of a body made it across these rickety benches without me noticing was a feat in itself. The man was stealthy as hell.
Michael looked like he’d swallowed something bitter as he replied, “Saturday afternoon.”
Garrett’s hands lifted just enough to grip the edge of my blanket and pull it higher over my shoulders before dropping to my biceps and rubbing his fingers up and down in a soothing manner.
“We can check our schedules. Maddie works Saturday evenings, but if you’re okay with it, I have no problem bringing Jamie,” he said, directing the last part at me.
Michael glanced over, but I struggled to focus on him when I could still feel Garrett’s words wrapping around me. We. He said we would check, like we were a team, a unit, a family in the making.
There was a funny feeling in my middle that was either my heart pulling a Grinch number and growing, or there was a chance I was about to vomit.
“Yeah, I’m sure we can make it work.”
Michael appeared less than happy about the entire ordeal. “Good. That’s good.” He stood abruptly, muttering something about needing to use the restroom. I watched him leave, wondering if he knew he’d walked in the opposite direction of them.
I pivoted my body, coming face to face with Garrett’s thick thigh. I slid my eyes up his frame, raising an eyebrow in silent question.
His eyes moved over every inch of my face like we’d gone months being apart. The hand on my arm moved to my cheek, cupping it for a fleeting moment before he pulled back and tucked his hands into his hoodie. “Hey.”